


The Bear and the Maiden Fair

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:02:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel has a crush and will murder anyone who makes a Beauty and the Beast reference, Feuilly is suffering from a lack of sleep, and Jehan and Courfeyrac are being gross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bear and the Maiden Fair

"You do like her, don't you, Bahorel?"

"No, I do not", the large man mumbled to his chin, uncharacteristically blushing.

Courfeyrac and Feuilly exchanged looks.

"You kind of do, though", Feuilly said after a moment. "You kind of have a big, fat crush on her."

Bahorel looked at him with shock, muttered something suspiciously like 'et tu, Feuilly' and then cast his eyes down again, fiddling with the bottle of beer in his hand.

"I'm not going to say I do-"

"You do, though."

Bahorel shot Feuilly a look, and then stubbornly continued:

"Well... maybe _, maybe_ I have feelings for her, that are, well, certainly more than friendship, but I don't think she..."

Jehan moaned exasperatedly.

"For God's sake, Bahorel, you should just man up and ask her out!"

"Look, dude, I'm totally fine with you doing your own thing in your own time and all that, but last night you talked about her and that Montparnasse character until, like, four am, and didn't let me go to sleep at all, even when I asked _nicely_ , and, you know, it's just something even I can tolerate. What I'm trying to say is, you should probably make a move today or just shut up about it", said Feuilly, a little irritated. The bags beneath his eyes looked enormous.

"That _douche_ ", muttered Bahorel darkly, gripping the bottle in his hand tighter.

"Yeaaah, okay, let's all just stay calm tonight", said Jehan, cautiously prising his fingers from the fragile, breakable glass.

"So what's the deal?", asked Courfeyrac, leaning towards Bahorel curiously. "I've seen you chat up ladies before - you never looked like it was that big of a problem."

"Well, it's different now", said Bahorel, his cheeks puffy.

Jehan sighed and put his chin in his hands.

"This is potentially a great poem, you know", he said. "Game of Thrones style. 'The bear and the maiden fair', and all that."

"You're calling me a bear?", Bahorel asked, but without the usual anger that cropped up whenever he thought he was being insulted. "You better not make a 'Beauty and the Beast' reference, though, because I _will_ steal your favourite pair of pants. Yeah, the pink ones. Do _not_ underestimate me."

Jehan twisted his mouth in a grimace of exaggerated offense, and sunk lower in his seat with an unnecessary dramatic air. Courfeyrac was starting to rub off on him, in more ways than just the literal.

"I could totally be Lumiere, though", Courfeyrac said, with an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm.

Bahorel was already starting to regret his words.

"Does that make me Cogsworth?", Jehan asked, nose scrunching up in distaste.

"No, you'd be the little chipped cup", Courfeyrac answered, now addressing solely his boyfriend, pressing his nose to Jehan's cheek and nuzzling him lovingly, "because you're cute as a button-"

"I think we've strayed a little from the subject", Feuilly said suddenly, clearing his throat.

"There's no subject", Bahorel replied. "It's my business, and I appreciate if you all stayed the hell out of it, thanks."

"But we're your friendsssss", said Courfeyrac desperately, untangling himself from Jehan and almost throwing himself over the small table. "Who's going to stick their nose in your business, if not us?"

"No one, I should hope", answered Bahorel, but a little softer.

Then, suddenly, his face lost all colour, as he watched something over Feuilly's head.

"Oh God", he choked out, his eyes widening. "She's coming this way. Everybody be cool. Everybody stay calm. Okay. How do I look?"

Courfeyrac bit his lip to keep from laughing, and Jehan kicked him under the table, reminding him to behave, as Feuilly reassured Bahorel he did, in fact, look just fine.

Eponine approached their table briskly, cocking one hip out and throwing her hair over one shoulder.

"Anything else I can get you boys?", she asked, gathering their empty glasses.

"Erk...", Bahorel said faintly, and Feuilly shot him an alarmed look, before turning to smile at Eponine.

"What a night", she said, running the back of her hand over her forehead, not noticing the slightly strained grinning of everyone at the table.

"Phew. I'm knackered. Where's the rest of the gang? I shouldn't probably call it like that, though, or Enjolras will descend on me with all of his righteous anger."

She grinned, eyes shining in the dark.

"Tonight it's just us", answered Jehan. "Sorry for the disappointment."

"No, not at all", she returned, tracing her fingers down Bahorel's back lightly, and then leaning over his shoulder to whisper conspiratorially to them all:

"Don't tell anyone, but you're totally my favourite customers."

"You say that to everyone", Jehan said, smiling.

"That I do, that I do", she admitted with a grin, starting to walk away slowly.

"Hey, Eponine!", shouted Courfeyrac, before she was out of earshot. She turned quickly, quirking one eyebrow, and walked back.

"I was just wondering, how are things going with that Montparnasse guy?", Courfeyrac said casually, putting his arm around Jehan.

"Why, monsieur Courfeyrac, I hardly think that's appropriate, what with your boyfriend sitting right next to you, and all", she said playfully, fluttering her eyelashes. Jehan chuckled, and laced his fingers with Courfeyrac's, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.

"To be honest", she said, suddenly serious, "we broke it off, a couple of weeks ago. It just didn't work out. But, what can you do, you know? Life goes on."

Everyone not-so-subtly looked at Bahorel.

"But", he said weakly, "he was here yesterday. You talked over the bar, and then went outside - I mean, it's not like I was watching, I wasn't - I just noticed, is all."

His face was the colour of bright red, lush tomatoes.

"Yeah, that", she made a grimace. "He wanted to talk it over again. Nothing important. What's this sudden interest in my love life, guys? Got someone special for me?"

Courfeyrac was grinning so hard Bahorel was starting to worry about his head falling off his neck.

"Oh, I think you'll find-", he started, before Jehan closed his mouth with a ferocious kiss. After a few vaguely protesting _mmmphs_ , he relaxed in Jehan's embrace, his hands coming up to trail over Jehan's sides.

Feuilly smiled nervously at Eponine, who watched the scene with confusion.

"What was he about to say?", she asked suspiciously, but Feuilly waved his hand dismissingly. "Probably a load of bullshit, knowing Courfeyrac."

"Hey, I resent that", said Courfeyrac reproachfully, before turning to kiss Jehan again.

"Keep those hands above the waist", Eponine said warningly. "I don't want no public indecencies in my café."

Feuilly chuckled.

Bahorel, still in shock, said: "So... you're single now?"

"Yeah", she laughed, looking at him fondly. "And fucking loving it, let me tell you. I finally have time to do all the stupid alone stuff I never got to do when Parnasse was hanging around. I've got a whole season of  'The Walking Dead' to catch up on now."

She walked away then, catching eyes of customers in need of new drinks.

"Guys", Feuilly said after a moment. "Guys, she's gone. You can stop making out now. Guys."

It was a long minute before Jehan and Courfeyrac finally separated from each other, both breathless and blurry-eyed. Somehow the first four buttons of Courfeyrac's shirt were undone. Bahorel would take time to admire Jehan's skills if he wasn't completely disgusted.

"You're gross", he said, looking at them while they shared a shy smile.

"No, _you're_ gross", replied Jehan, fixing his hair and the flower wreath perched in it, looking unnaturally self-composed. Next to him, Courfeyrac seemed like he lost the power of speech.

"You've got to make your move, Bahorel, and you've got to make it now. See that guy over there? Tell me he's not thinking about asking for her number."

Bahorel craned his neck to look at the tall, attractive man in the corner, smiling warmly at Eponine as she took his order. Something tightened in his chest, a now already too-familiar pang of jealousy.

He followed her with his eyes as she danced through the café, easily slipping between crowded tables with grace and talking to the customers cheerfully.

She was something else, truly, a girl capable of beating your ass and then patching you right up with gentle hands; a girl who worked double shifts and barely ever slept, and yet always had that smile on her face, ready to goof around with them whenever they called; he had never met anyone like her before.

"Look", said Jehan, unhooking a daisy from his hair wreath with care. "Just go and give her this."

Bahorel accepted the flower with wide eyes. It looked almost comical in his enormous, calloused palm.

"Go!", Jehan urged him on, pushing against his arm with his slight fingers.

Bahorel ran a hand through his hair, and nodded a few times, a determined look setting on his face.

He closed his fingers around the flower carefully, and got to his feet.

All three of his friends watched him go, stepping awkwardly to the bar, where Eponine wiped glasses tiredly.

"Well, this can go a lot of ways", said Feuilly, with a worried expression.

"You're his best friend, have some faith in him", said Jehan, leaning over the table so he could get a better look. "Look, she likes the flower."

"He's stuttering", Feuilly said, eyes fixed on his friend. "He's actually stuttering. Bahorel. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I'd see something like this happen."

Courfeyrac leaned forward, too, pressing himself to Jehan's back, and murmured something in his boyfriend's ear that made him blush violently and smile.

"Don't do that", Feuilly said, watching them in alarm. "Bahorel's abandoned me now, I have no intention of watching you two have sex in this booth."

" _Not_ in this booth", Courfeyrac said, grinning wickedly, and standing up. "We'll leave you to your own devices, dude. Our work here is done."

They walked out of the café together, Courfeyrac's arm looped around Jehan's waist, and the slighter man looking at him with fond eyes, leaning into him.

Feuilly took one look at the bar, where Bahorel and Eponine were engrossed in a deep conversation, him wildly gesticulating, and her laughing, her whole body shaking with the force of it, and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been rereading GoT lately. It doesn't show at all, no, no, not at all.  
> There should definitely be more people on the Bahorel/Eponine ship, for real now. It's got so much potential, you guysssss. Stupid cuddly people who playfully wrestle and then make out, ugh.  
> 


End file.
